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Since she’d only given them a few weeks ago, she didn’t think so.
“She gave you the wrong measurements,” she told the woman, ignoring her skeptical look.
She wasn’t going to get into what a bitch her sister was.
Biting her lip, she looked into the mirror.
“This is terrible!” the woman cried.
“I know. It’s the ugliest bridesmaid dress I’ve ever seen.” She wasn’t expecting much.
But this was far worse.
The woman gasped. “I’ve worked long hours on this dress.”
Whoops. She hadn’t meant to insult her. “Right. Uh, sorry. It’s just . . . is it me or is it orange?”
“This color is called marmalade.”
“Right. Sure. I like marmalade. Especially on toast. But isn’t that just another word for orange?”
The dressmaker sniffed. “Obviously, you know nothing about fashion.”
No, she didn’t. But she knew what didn’t suit her and this gave her skin a decidedly orange glow. And the cut of the dress was terrible for her curves. It was mermaid style which meant she could barely walk, and it highlighted her big ass.
“I’m going to have to take it in here and here.” The woman moved around prodding at her and muttering to herself. “It’s Tuesday and the wedding is on Saturday! That’s not much time.”
Lara closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath.
This would not break her. She’d suffered through worse.
Besides, she wasn’t the only bridesmaid. They’d all be in the same position. She just couldn’t believe Emily had chosen disgusting dresses for all of her friends.
Actually, wait. Yes, she could. This was just the sort of thing her sister would do.
She hated not being the most beautiful person in the room.
This isn’t the end of the world. You will survive.
Half an hour later, she stumbled out of the dress shop in a daze. Reaching into her bag, she searched for her phone as she started walking back toward the motel. At least the dress fitting had been in Freestown and not Devotion. So far, she’d managed to avoid going back there. Although probably not for long.
As she drew out her phone, she bumped into someone.
“Oh!” a feminine voice said.
Lara reached out to grab the slight person before they could fall over, her phone going flying. Guilt filled her as she saw the other woman had a baby bump.
Shit. She’d nearly pushed over a pregnant woman.
Idiot!
Why was she always crashing into people?
“I’m so sorry!” she said. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Are you all right?” She started patting the woman down.
She was barely aware of a man stepping up beside them.
“Uh, Flick?” the man asked.
“Yeah?”
“There a reason some chick is trying to feel you up?” he asked.
“I’m really not sure,” Flick replied.
As soon as their words infiltrated, she stepped back, her cheeks heating as she spotted the attractive-looking cowboy standing over the tiny woman.
“I’m so sorry.”
“You already said that,” Flick replied kindly. “Hi, I’m Flick. This is Tanner.” She held out her hand and Lara shook it weakly.
She was such an idiot.
“Figure I should introduce myself since I’m pretty sure we just reached second base,” Flick explained.
“I’m so sorry. I’m such a klutz. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Sorry.”
“Hey, stop apologizing,” Flick told her. “No one was hurt. Are you all right?”
“Me? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.”
Not at all.
“Here’s your phone.” Tanner handed it over to her. “It’s got a crack across the front of it. Didn’t realize people still had phones this old.”
“Tanner!” the small woman said, elbowing him.
“What? What did I say?” Tanner asked.
“Don’t listen to him,” Flick told her with a smile. “He’s got no social skills.”
“Uh, right. It’s okay. It’s pretty old.” And now it was cracked. But it was okay because soon she’d be able to afford a new phone. “I’m really sorry for running into you.”
“That’s okay. Sure you’re all right? You look kind of pale,” Flick told her.
“No. No, I’m fine.”
“Hey, wait a minute, I know you!” Tanner said suddenly. “You’re Butch’s girl.”
Wow. That sent warmth flooding through her. It shouldn’t, though. Because she knew that wasn’t the case. She wasn’t Butch’s anything.
But you’d like to be.
She’d spent most of yesterday hiding in her motel room with the TV up loud so Old Al next door couldn’t speak to her through the wall and thinking of a hundred different texts to send him. She’d ended up sending none.
Wimp.
“Um, sorry?” she asked.
“Butch’s girl? What do you mean?” Flick asked Tanner before turning to her. “Do you know Butch?”
“I, uh, know him, but I’m not his girl. We’re friends.”
“You’re his damsel in distress. He’s taking her to a wedding this weekend,” Tanner explained.
Who was he?
But wait . . . as she looked closer, she could see the familiar features. Butch was bigger. Wider across the shoulders, more muscular and taller. Definitely more handsome. But there were enough similarities for her to guess they were related.
“You’re Butch’s brother?” she asked.
